


A Duty of Care

by Nehszriah



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Episode AU: 2014 Xmas Last Christmas, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Kid Fic, Pinkwald present in form of OC baby, Post-Episode: 2014 Xmas Last Christmas, Prompt Fic, why does no one want Danny to raise his own kids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 07:14:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8153522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nehszriah/pseuds/Nehszriah
Summary: “Please, don’t even argue,” he said, holding out his hand. Clara saw not only the fear in his eyes, but the hope that she would take his hand and they would run off, travelling happily ever after. She wanted to, she really did, and would have had it not been for one tiny detail. Leaning forward, she kissed him on the cheek; a kind, tender gesture.
“I… this isn’t an argument,” she replied.
[from a tumblr prompt]





	

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt that this came off of was this: "The Doctor coming back in Last Christmas to find out Clara had been pregnant with Danny's child and deciding to stay and help because he has a duty of care and that duty now extends to this new human." While I did end up working with this, yeah, please remember that this level of melodrama is probably not where the show itself should go. Danny shouldn't have to keep on dying before his kids are born. =/

“Please, don’t even argue,” he said, holding out his hand. Clara saw not only the fear in his eyes, but the hope that she would take his hand and they would run off, travelling happily ever after. She wanted to, she really did, and would have had it not been for one tiny detail. Leaning forward, she kissed him on the cheek; a kind, tender gesture.

“I… this isn’t an argument,” she replied. The Doctor’s face then grew dark and hurt as he took back his hand.

“I thought—”

A grumpy, croaking cry cut through the air and Clara’s heart skipped a beat. She watched as he grew still, his pale eyes bulging at the new element to the environment. They crying continued, however, and she got out of bed, heading the next door down to the nursery and the baby in her cot. Since her breasts ached, Clara figured it was about time for a feeding, and sure enough, her daughter was soon suckling with as much voracity as ever.

“Who is this… tiny human…?” the Doctor asked. Clara glanced towards the nursery door and saw that the Doctor was standing there in utter confusion. He leaned on the doorway, almost afraid to come in.

“This is Bonnie,” she said, not bothered that he was watching them. “She’s a month and a half old, aren’t you, darling?” The babe gurgled as she spat out some milk, at which the Doctor took a step inside the room.

“Language, Bonnie,” he gently chided. He then stepped closer, cautious of what was happening around him. “How long has it been?”

“This is the truth, Doctor; no Dream Crabs,” Clara said. She made sure Bonnie was eating again before continuing. “Danny’s gone, and I mourn him every day, but I can’t let myself go because I have to take care of our daughter.”

“How…?”

“I was pregnant when he died—when I called him, it was to tell him to come here so I could tell him, in-person, but you know how that went,” she said. “Didn’t you notice how in my dream-scape, the old me still had a tree and presents and everything was decorated? It was Bonnie and her children.”

“Oh.”

By now, the Doctor had fully crossed the room and crouched down in front of Clara, watching carefully as Bonnie was burped and laid back down in her mother’s arms to fall asleep. “P… _Danny_ made this tiny human with you?”

“Yes. We were discussing the possibility of getting married, starting a family, but this little lady popped up while I was switching medications. She was supposed to be the start of something beautiful.”

“She still is,” he replied. The Doctor gently took Bonnie from Clara’s arms and held her against his chest. “I know, I know, you brave little thing—just like your mam. Time to sleep now.” He laid her down in her cot and placed a hand on her head, carefully lulling her infant mind to rest. A moment to watch her and he turned back towards Clara, his face a mask devoid of emotion.

“Doctor—”

“We need to talk.”

A few minutes later and the Doctor was sitting at the kitchen table downstairs while Clara made them some tea. He had his hands folded atop the table, trying not to fidget, let alone leap up and attempt to help while only getting in the way. Tea was soon ready, and Clara sat down at the table with him.

“Before you ask: it’s a house I rented by the seaside,” she mentioned. “Danny and I were planning on coming here, and it would have been a waste of a security check to _not_ come.”

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“It’s still a first family holiday, now isn’t it?”

“Ah.” He finished putting sugar lumps in his tea and stirred the hyper-saturated concoction. “I, um, assume you plan on going back to work after the holiday?”

“That’s the plan, though I don’t know about this daycare that one of my coworkers gave me the number for,” she replied. “I may take a couple extra weeks figuring that part out.”

“You don’t have to,” he said. The Doctor placed one of his knobby hands on hers and squeezed it assuringly. “I’ll mind Bonnie while you’re at work—it’s the least I can do.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Doctor,” she frowned.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he said. “I have a duty of care, Clara, and I mean to keep it. I was too late coming around when it came to your feelings about Danny, but his daughter…”

“Don’t you _dare_ use Danny’s memory against me,” she warned, taking her hand away. “This is not the time or place.”

“No plan of the sort,” he admitted. “If you want to keep working, I can take care of Bonnie; if you’d rather stay at home with her, I can call Kate’s bluff about being on the lucrative end of UNIT’s payroll. Let me care about you both, not out of obligation, but because I want to… please.”

It took only a moment for everything to come crashing down on Clara and she was sobbing into the Doctor’s shoulder. She had been staying strong for so long that she hadn’t allowed herself that moment of weakness, that rough, harsh cry she needed, that it hurt as she let the tears flow free. The universe owed her the father of her child, but instead a family in Kurdistan was whole again. Why couldn’t both happen? A good man who regretted and atoned should have the chance to raise his daughter, knowing that the sin he had committed was miraculously reversed… but no. Instead her bed was empty while she tried to figure out how to juggle her new role as mother with the rest of her life, doing everything alone. It was no one’s fault—not hers or Danny’s or the boy’s or even the Doctor’s—and although she knew she could do it, the thought was still terrifying.

She nodded into the stupid hoodie he was wearing— _yes_.

* * *

Clara and the Doctor agreed that they would part ways until she came home from the seaside, making it so that she had her holiday with Bonnie to herself. When she returned to her flat, half of her belongings were gone, though not in a way that made her dial the police.

“Doctor? Where’s my couch?” she asked into the mobile.

“ _Oh, I had to move it_ ,” he replied. “ _Don’t worry—it’s safe… I think. I don’t have that much experience with non-sentient couches to be able to tell_ …”

“Where is it?”

“ _Hold on; you’re breaking up_ ,” he lied. The call cut and Clara was left standing next to the carrier holding Bonnie, rather irritated at the whole situation.

“Get used to this, sweetie,” she told the baby. She was just about to take her out of the carrier when the TARDIS materialized in the empty spot where the couch used to sit, with the Doctor immediately poking his head out.

“Coming?”

“What are you up to?” she asked. The Doctor exited the TARDIS long enough to snatch the baby carrier and its occupant, going back in without a word. “Doctor?! What’s going on?!” Clara followed him into the TARDIS, only for the door to close behind her and the ship to immediately take off and land.

“You know how we decided you were going to continue going to work while I stayed with Bonnie?” he posed.

“Yes…”

“Well, I called Kate’s bluff anyhow and found out I had a substantial amount due to me in backpay from when I worked with her father, as well as access to a bank account I set up at the time, and—”

“Spit it out,” she demanded, folding her arms.

“Welcome home,” he said. The Doctor snapped his fingers and the door opened on its own, allowing him to usher her out with the hand not occupied by Bonnie’s carrier.

Clara gasped when she turned around outside the TARDIS, taking in the spacious flat that was slowly being populated with her things. She looked out the window and recognized the street. “We’re in Shoreditch. Doctor, just because I _work_ in Shoreditch doesn’t mean I can _afford_ Shoreditch…”

“Mam was not paying attention, was she?” the Doctor asked Bonnie, who was now in his arms. The girl sputtered and he considered it. “Well, she’s still _technically_ correct, but she didn’t remember what I just said…”

“Doctor, you didn’t get this flat, did you?”

“I said I wanted to take care of you both, now didn’t I?”

“Did you really have to move my flat though?”

“You’re a five-minute walk from work and Bonnie doesn’t have to sleep in your room,” he shrugged. The Doctor then turned his attention back towards the infant he was carrying. “C’mon; let’s get you comfortable.”

“Doctor!” Clara protested. “Get back here! We need to talk about this!”

When he did not return, she followed him into the rest of the flat, finding her alien stick-insect placing her daughter in an automatic swing in what was clearly a nursery, though unlike any nursery she had ever seen before. The ceiling appeared to be painted to look like the night sky, but when she looked more carefully she discovered that it was _the_ sky—the stars above them in space at that moment—with the walls mimicking an old English forest. It seemed that the Doctor had transported all of Bonnie’s things over to the new flat, carefully scattering them amongst the new things he had placed in there as well. Clara picked up a stuffed toy from a shelf, one of an alien she’d never seen, and examined it carefully.

“You did all this yourself?” she wondered.

“Of course,” the Doctor replied frankly. “You were still on holiday and I would have rather it been done by the time you returned.”

“You didn’t have to,” she said, putting the toy down. “Helping out a bit until Bonnie is in school isn’t _this_ …”

“Then what’s this?”

“Caring,” he said. “I’ve sort of forgotten how to care— _properly care_ —about someone. It’s like a distant memory, but I want to change that.” He held out his hand and gave Clara a wan smile when she took it. “I’m not a good man like Danny was, but it doesn’t mean I can’t try.”

“Now _you’re_ the one who wasn’t listening,” she laughed weakly. Clara pulled the Doctor towards her and hugged him, wrapping her arms around his middle firmly. “The only man for me other than Danny is an impossible one, and he is right here with me.”

The Doctor beamed, kissing the top of Clara’s head affectionately. He wanted to care, and this was his chance… a second chance. Not everyone got second chances, and he was glad for his.

* * *

Morning broke and Clara woke up to her alarm for the first time in months. She hit the silence button and swung her legs over the edge of the mattress, stretching sleep away. Glancing at the other side of the bed, she saw that the Doctor wasn’t there, having escaped some time during the night. She put on her robe and went to the nursery, finding him bouncing Bonnie in one arm while he bottle-fed her.

“Mam’s awake—looks like we can’t have fun until she leaves for work,” he announced to the baby. He put the bottle down and went to burp Bonnie, the little girl spitting up all over his hoodie. “Well, aren’t you rude?”

“…and you being domestic always makes me laugh,” Clara said. She kissed her daughter on the forehead and the Doctor on the cheek. “How does some breakfast sound?”

“Great,” he mumbled.

Clara then left the nursery and went into the kitchen, focusing on getting together some eggs and toast for the two of them. It had been a week since she had come home to find her flat half-moved into another, and although she needed a night to get used to it, she was now completely in love with the new flat. She was able to really stretch out, and the Doctor hadn’t been joking about the distance to Coal Hill being minimal. Her new live-in nanny walked into the kitchen as she finished up the eggs, having shed his hoodie and was now just in a t-shirt.

“Bonnie behaving?” she asked, putting plates of food down on the table.

“She’s busy with one of those overhead playcenters,” he said, not wholly answering her question. “Thanks for breakfast.”

“Thanks for the babysitting services,” she echoed. “I’m not going to get a call every hour, on the hour, while I’m at work, am I?”

“That would mean admitting defeat,” the Doctor declared. As it had turned out, although Bonnie was apparently affectionate when it came to her new caretaker, she was still spirited enough to cause him trouble. How that was, Clara wasn’t eager to find out, and therefore skirted around the subject skillfully throughout the remainder of breakfast. She let the Doctor clear dishes while she got ready for work, and after giving Bonnie another kiss, found herself crying on her walk to work.

She thought about calling during her prep hour, she really did, but Clara ended up being so busy catching up with her coworkers that there was no time between breaks and teaching. By the time she returned home, she had spent the entire day without checking in, something she only realized when she saw the condition of the flat. Toys and blankets were strewn everywhere, with the odd TARDISy device intermingled amongst the lot. Settled down on the couch, sleeping peacefully, was a formula-splattered Doctor, with Bonnie laying contently on his chest. The newly returned mother plucked her daughter from her place, waking up the Doctor instantly.

“You know you shouldn’t sleep with her like that,” she scolded once he realized what was going on. He grunted as he stood and followed her into the also-messy nursery, where she put Bonnie down for a proper nap.

“What’s the proper way to take a nap then?” he asked.

“With her in the cot—you aren’t supposed to share sleeping spaces with children until they’re large enough to not roll onto and suffocate.”

“I wouldn’t do that; it’s against what I stand for,” he protested quietly. “I wouldn’t be doing a very good job of caring for Bonnie if I smothered her.”

“Then how about if we work on something else you’re terrible at: picking up after yourself.”

The Doctor grumbled under his breath as Clara shooed him out of the room and she began to clean up the nursery herself. It was good to be near her daughter, even if the baby was sleeping, and sorting through the seemingly-endless amount of things she had gained within the last week or so. Stuffed animals, books made of soft plastic, a broken toy soldier… Clara examined the object with great interest, wondering how it appeared there. She placed it on a shelf next to the changing table and smiled wanly—he was watching over them, somehow, she simply knew.


End file.
